


the accidental acquisition

by CapnWinghead



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentors, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes, Self-Denial, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:27:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25538065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CapnWinghead/pseuds/CapnWinghead
Summary: The Young Avengers were coming into their own as a superhero team. They needed a lot of help and Sam was more than glad to offer them advice. Unfortunately, that meant Bucky had to learn to share.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Sam Wilson, Kate Bishop/America Chavez, Teddy Altman/Billy Kaplan
Comments: 20
Kudos: 110





	the accidental acquisition

**Author's Note:**

> I had this idea that Sam and Bucky become unofficial mentors to the Young Avengers in the MCU. I had a lot of fun imagining Bucky being annoyed at having to share Sam with other people. So, this happened. It turned out a lot longer than I intended, but it was a lot of fun to write.

The room was bathed in sunlight.

Soft rays cutting through the blinds, casting stripes of light across Sam’s golden skin. His chest, his arms, his lips as Bucky rose over him, plotting his path. He pressed a kiss to Sam’s shoulder, following the line of Sam’s throat. His lips brushed over his neck, earning a shiver as he nipped and sucked at his skin.

A soft moan rumbled through Sam’s throat as Bucky travelled down his body. Light kisses pressed down the center of Sam’s chest before he took a nipple into his mouth and bit down. Sam arched, his breath catching as a hand slid into Bucky’s hair. Grinning, Bucky lapped at the hardened nub, sucking gently as Sam writhed beneath him.

“Buck,” he sighed, rolling his hips. Half hard, letting Bucky’s thigh slid between his legs.

Bucky planted a hand on his chest, keeping him still as he got back to work.

It had been too long since he’d last had Sam to himself. Their week had been spent doing press and running around the city putting out fires; sometimes literally. Often returning home with barely enough time to order take out, stuff it down their throats and pass out in front of the television. Some mornings, Bucky woke up half on top of Sam to find he’d drooled on his back in the night. He used to be embarrassed; now he was just relieved they’d actually made it to a bed.

All this to say, he was planning on taking advantage of this time before –

_Ping._

Sam’s phone chimed.

Bucky ignored it, sliding his fingers beneath the waistband of Sam’s boxers. Nipping at Sam’s stomach as he slid beneath the covers. Sam’s fingers tightened in Bucky’s hair.

 _Ping_.

Bucky forced himself to ignore it, tugging Sam’s boxers down. Sam’s cock curved up along his belly, slick, wet and inviting.

 _Ping. Ping. Ping.  
  
_ Sam’s phone chimed three times in a matter of seconds.

Cursing, Bucky yanked the covers off, rising up on his knees. “Okay, what the hell?”

Sam’s head fell back with a sigh. He offered an apologetic smile as he reached for his phone. He unlocked it, scrolling through the messages. His eyes widened and he gently pushed Bucky off of him, sliding out of bed.

Grumbling, Bucky watched him head for the door. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Sam,” he said wearily.

“I’ll be right back.”

“Sam!” It earned a frown as Sam looked back him. “You want to put on some pants?” he asked, Sam’s boxers dangling from his fingers.

Flustered, Sam flew back into the room, snagging them. He slid them on and searched the floor for a pair of pants. Then, he pressed a kiss to Bucky’s forehead as he left, “Thanks, babe.”

Bucky fell back in bed with a frustrated groan.

After he showered and dressed, he found Sam in the living room with one of the children they’d somehow accidentally acquired.,

“I just don’t get it. Okay, like, we were all having a great time and then she just iced me. And it’s not like it’s the first time. She’s always been a bitch to me. Like, from the beginning of time,” Kate explained, pausing only to gulp down about half of the Frappuccino in her hand.

It was twenty degrees out, but a little thing like the weather couldn’t stop Kate Bishop from making a Starbucks run.

Bucky should be nice. The kids weren’t all bad. He may be Kate Bishop’s polar opposite, but she was a sweet kid and Barton seemed to think she could be an Avenger someday. Give or take twenty years.

So, he forced a smile as he sank down beside Sam on the couch. Kate stopped mid rant, frowning at him. “What?” he barked, dodging Sam’s elbow.

“What’s wrong with your face?”

“What?” he groused, looking to Sam who shrugged, sipping his iced coffee. Of course, she’d brought something for Sam.

Kate averted her gaze, muttering, “I guess I’ve just never seen you smile before.”

Sam choked down a laugh and Bucky seriously considered heading out. Especially since the hellspawn now knew where Sam lived. Crossing his arms, “Why are you here?”

“I need advice,” she said plainly.

“About what? A book report?”

“No one’s done book reports since like 1950.”

“My bad. It’s been a while since I was in the eighth grade.”

“Eleventh,” she spat, her face flushing immediately. She recovered well, “What, do you like live here now?”

Bucky sputtered for a moment, glaring at her. Finally, Sam pushed Bucky back into the couch and leaned forward. “What do you need help with?”

Kate finally looked away from Bucky, twirling a lock of hair around her finger nervously. “How do I get America to stop being so mean to me?”

“What are Sam and I supposed to do about your little crush?” Bucky asked.

Her cheeks flushed darker as her eyes flit from Sam and back to him. Sam simply shrugged, sipping his coffee. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky sighed, suddenly feeling very old. “Look, she teases you but, if she didn’t like you, she wouldn’t spend time with you.” At Sam’s frown, he shrugged. “It’s immature but it is what it is.”

“We’re on a team together.”

“Do I hang out with Lang?” He did, but rarely. The guy talked more than Tommy Shepherd. “Sam and I work together and I don’t have to be here on a Saturday morning but I was promised a morning quickie—” Sam elbowed him in the stomach and he course corrected, “ _hang out_. I don’t have to be here but I am.”

“But you’re both clearly gay.”

“Clearly?” Sam repeated and she winced.

“I just mean, like, it’s obvious. You two have that whole bickering old married couple thing and then there’s the growly thing.”

“Growly thing?” Bucky repeated.

“She means you,” Sam said, the corner of his mouth turning up amusedly.

“Clearly,” Kate chimed in.

“Do I wanna know?”

“You get all growly when anyone even looks at Sam the wrong way. Like you’re going to tear them apart and you’re all ‘don’t even think about it’,” she growled, lowering her voice a few registers. Which was ridiculous because there was no way Bucky sounded like that.

“We’re friends,” he said. It sounded weak to his ears. Especially considering he was moments away from putting his ‘friend’s’ penis in his mouth earlier that morning.

Kate circled back. “America doesn’t feel that way about me.”

“Does she like girls?” Bucky asked pointedly

“Women,” Kate corrected, twining her lock of hair around her finger. “And yes,” she conceded.

“Trust me, kid. She likes you.”

Kate frowned, started to argue once more that Bucky was wrong but it was nearly ten and if Bucky didn’t get at least thirty minutes with Sam, he was going to lose his mind. He stood up, herding Kate towards the door. She moved, looking affronted as he shooed her out.

“Do something about it before you both do something stupid,” Bucky remarked.

Kate stopped in the doorway, her gaze falling to Sam’s pants. She laughed softly, her eyes lighting up. “That’s cute.”

“What?” Sam asked, but he never got an answer. Bucky offered a fake friendly smile before closing the door. “Buck,” Sam chided. At the grumpy growl, Sam rolled his eyes, returning to his outfit.

Bucky strode forward. “These are mine.” He tugged at the waistband, eying the material dragging on the ground. His hand slid down the back, palming Sam’s ass possessively. “Take them off.”

Sam’s eyes darkened as he let himself be steered back towards the bedroom. Let Bucky get him down on the bed and tear his pants off. “You know, we didn’t’ do anything stupid,” Sam said.

“I’m about to,” Bucky replied and Sam shook his head, fighting a laugh.

Bucky tugged Sam’s shirt overhead. “You know, I didn’t promise you a quickie. I promised you breakfast.”

Humming in agreement, Bucky roughly turned Sam over onto his stomach, tugging his boxers down. It took minimal effort to push him higher up on the bed as he lowered himself down. Spread his hands out over Sam’s ass consideringly, he murmured, “Fine with me.”

* * *

Bucky actually liked stake outs.

Sitting up high at a vantage point, watching the world move around below him. He liked being outside, the cool air, the solitude. Most importantly, he liked the silence.

“You do this a lot? Not like, you know, come here often, but like, do you do this a lot? Because it’s like really, really boring. And what if you have to pee and you miss something? Like, do you just hold it the whole time? I guess that’s why you have a partner, huh?” Tommy asked in a rush.

Cursing Sam internally, Bucky let his head fall back against the brick wall. The kid had paced the rooftop more than a few times. When he’d arrived, Bucky had slapped a black beanie on his head to hide his silvery white hair. He seemed immune to stealth. Why Tommy had been assigned for stake out duty, Bucky would never know.

He wished he’d been given America. She knew the art of silence. Plus, she liked to punch things which was right up his alley. But no, Sam had taken her, Cassie and Teddy with him to do recon in the Bronx. David was working, Kate had some rich family function thing and Billy had _homework_.

Why was Bucky working with a bunch of toddlers, again?

“So, you and Sam, huh?” Tommy asked, popping up near Bucky’s right elbow. He clearly thought his speed would save him from a surprise, and accidental, elbow to the face.

“You got something to say?” Bucky asked, his tone devoid of any emotion. Sam had said people were more welcoming towards men dating other men, but there were still some idiots out there. Not that he and Sam were dating exactly, but he wasn’t going to take any lip from a snot nosed brat.

Tommy stood up straighter, his mouth opening and closing nervously for a bit. “Oh, no, no, I was just making conversation. I like Sam a lot.” Bucky’s brow rose as he turned his head and stared at the kid head on. Tommy blushed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not like _a lot_ , a lot. Just like a lot. I think he’s really cool. He’s really nice.”

Bucky stared at him silently until the kid stiffened and moved a bit further away, trying to nonchalantly lean against the wall. Bucky did him a solid and pretended he didn’t see him smack the back of his head on the brick. It was the least he could do.

In truth, what he’d said hadn’t unsettled Bucky. Not really. Sam was really nice. It was a fact, as true as the fact that the sky was blue, grass was green, Sam was much too good to be slumming it with an asshole like Bucky Barnes. Sam liked smiling and mentoring annoying ass teenagers with no concept of boundaries. Sam didn’t mind working with other people on projects Bucky thought could be finished in half the time alone. Sam was the sort of guy that pretended he was fine with Bucky sleeping over most nights and having clothes in his apartment, while telling everyone they were just “friends”.

Sam never minded when other people “assumed” things, but Bucky did. Mostly because he didn’t understand Sam Wilson hitching his wagon to a screw up like Bucky. Not when there were millions of eligible people making it known they’d gladly keep Sam’s bed warm at night. And Bucky still cursed Kate Bishop for introducing him to Twitter.

Sighing, Bucky returned to watching the middle-aged dad tapping away at his computer. It was well past nine o’clock and the guy hadn’t gone home yet. They were chasing a lead that labelled him the money guy for a Hydra cell. Unfortunately, the father of four hadn’t done anything more sinister than take overtime to avoid being home with his kids.

Right now, Bucky could understand the sentiment.

“I feel like we’re letting him down,” Tommy said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, Cassie’s parents hate this whole thing. Kate and America aren’t speaking to each other and Billy’s worried about college. Teddy’s going wherever he’s going, or trying to, and David’s mature enough to actually join the X-Men. Which would really suck,” Tommy muttered, his face downcast. “Which just leaves me and… I’m the screw up. Think the Avengers wanna hire me?”

There was a lot to unpack there. His brain focused on the fact that Kate apparently hadn’t taken his advice, which was annoying for reasons he couldn’t pinpoint. But, he’d deal with the kid in front of him. “You’re not a screw up, kid.”

“You don’t listen, do you?” he asked sardonically. “I spent a lot of time in juvie as a kid and,” his voice grew rougher, “I hurt people. I was an angry kid.”

Bucky remembered what that was like. Hell, he was still angry. Bucky remembered the look on his father’s face every time he’d found out Bucky had been in yet another fight. His disappointment and the feeling that, no matter what Bucky did, he’d always be that screw up. Nothing he did would ever be good enough. Then Hydra sank their fangs into him and nothing he ever did would make up for the hurt he’d caused.

Short answer, Bucky knew what it felt like to drown in guilt and not see a way out.

The kid didn’t deserve to feel that way. So, Bucky searched for something to say; something Sam had said to him quite a bit. “You can’t go back. There’s no use thinking about the past, because you can’t change that. Focus on what you can do today.”

Tommy blinked at him. “You mean watching this old guy play Tetris on his work computer?”

Sighing, Bucky nodded. “That’s what a team is, kid. Sometimes it means doing the shitty job so your team can handle something else. Right now, you’re the best guy for this job.” Tommy was clearly skeptical and Bucky forced himself to explain. “None of the small things feel like they matter when you think about everything else you’ve done. But they add up over time and turn into big things. The more good you do, the more you understand why you’re still here.”

Tommy’s eyes widened wondrously, hanging on Bucky’s every word. It made Bucky feel strange and he turned away, watching as the soccer dad finally shut down his computer and packed up his office.

The kid was still staring at him with those big blue eyes when Bucky cleared his throat and gestured towards the building. “Go put the USB in his computer before he locks up.” Tommy was still staring. “Now, kid. C’mon.”

Back at home -- at _Sam’s,_ Bucky shuffled through the dark apartment, rubbing at a sore spot on his neck. The light was on in the bedroom and he started towards it before cursing, heading back to the doorway and toeing off his combat boots. Sam had given him enough grief the last time about tracking dirt in the apartment.

He padded barefoot through the living room, tugging off his jacket and tossing it over the back of the couch. Sam didn’t’ seem surprised to see him when he entered the bedroom. Instead, he offered one of those soft smiles that stirred something warm, and rather worrying, inside Bucky’s chest. His stomach twisted nervously and his mouth twitched to offer a smile in response. He covered it, tugging his shirt overhead.

Then he tiredly shuffled forward, crawling over Sam on the bed and faceplanting in his stomach. Laughing, Sam stroked his back. “Long night?”

“Oh, haha,” he muttered. “You took the obedient ones.”

“I took the ones without super speed.”

“The kid talks too much.”

“Anyone who says more than two sentences to you ‘talks too much’,” he repeated. His hand travelled up to card his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “Speaking of, Kate’s not talking to America.”

“This isn’t my fault,” he grumbled, burying his face in Sam’s stomach. He smelled of clean soap, as if he’d just showered. Bucky could very easily fall asleep in the next few minutes.

“You tried.” Bucky hummed, his breathing slowing. Sam leaned over, kissing the top of his head. “Thanks for trying.”

_Ping._

Bucky stirred, muttering, “Sam, we agreed. No phone after nine.”

“It could be an emergency.”

“It never is.”

“It could be,” he shifted, reaching for the nightstand. “Billy got into Columbia.” A pause. “Teddy didn’t.”

“Here we go,” Bucky muttered.

Sam’s phone was silent for a matter of seconds before it rang. Some loud song about watermelon sugar? Whatever that was. Bucky was sure Kate had changed the ringer. It played “Bad Guy” when Bucky called.

Sam shifted beneath him, laughing when Bucky whined and tried to keep him there. Sam managed to slide out of his hold. “I’ll just be a second.”

Bucky rolled over, closing his eyes. “You didn’t give birth to seven kids!”

He didn’t see it but he felt Sam flip him the bird.

* * *

“I’m already good at punching things,” America muttered, throwing her fist into the punching bag.

“Yeah, well, humor me.”

Bucky had been assigned to hold it since everyone else was likely to be thrown a few feet back. Still, he didn’t mind. Of all the youngsters, America was the one that made the most sense to him. No chattering, no teenage emotions vomiting all over him. Just snark and punching things.

He watched as America practiced for a bit before her gaze drifted. The corner of her mouth turned up as she called out, “Lookin’ good, princess!”

Bucky followed her gaze, watching as Kate blushed before focusing on her own bag. She glanced back a few times though, a little flustered.

Bucky pushed the bag towards America, unimpressed. “Stop looking at the pretty girls.”

America froze, narrowly missing stopping the bag from hitting her face in time. “I wasn’t – she’s not,” she sputtered, settling on glaring.

“She’s not pretty?” Bucky asked plainly.

America threw her fist into the bag with half the power she had before. “I didn’t say that.”

“So, she is pretty.”

“I didn’t say that either.”

“Sure.” America threw a punch with more power. “Look, you’re transparent.”

“Just because you can’t keep your hands off your teammates—”

“I have no idea what you mean.”

America straightened, catching the bag and peeking around it, her eyes narrowed. “We all know. Why do you think we always call before we come over?”

Bucky’s eyes widened. “Because it’s polite?”

“We all know you’re doing it.” She returned to training.

Bucky felt off kilter, still, he had to focus or America was likely to break his nose with this bag. “Yeah, well, I’m a professional and I keep my flirting after hours.”

America glared at around the bag. “I’m not flirting!”

The gym went silent. Kate, Teddy, David, Sam, and Tommy were staring at her.

Cursing, she started punching the bag again.

Afterwards, she shuffled over to him, unwrapping her hands. “I don’t… not like her, okay?” she muttered. “Doesn’t matter anyway.”

Bucky drained his water bottle, studying her. Then, “If you’re going to give me some teenage angst story—”

“She’s not interested.”

“She say that?” Bucky was honestly surprised.

America shrugged, leaning against the wall. “She’s a spoiled rich girl and she goes to this fancy ass school uptown. So, whatever you think Is going on here, it’s not.”

Bucky remembered the way before he’d gathered the courage to “do something stupid” and kiss Sam on the quinjet after a fight. Back when he thought Sam so far above him, the most he’d ever be interested in was a one-night stand. Then once became twice and twice became three times and now it was countless. Bucky still felt that nervous quelling in his stomach when Sam smiled at him sometimes. Like he was seconds away from saying something embarrassingly sweet, throwing up or falling flat on his face. Bucky hated feelings – even more when they were his.

“Look, you like being around her?” America didn’t respond but that was ‘yes’ for them, honestly. “Then spend time with her. Try not insulting her once in a while. Maybe you’ll just be friends, but that’s better than missing out on getting to know someone you actually like,” Bucky finished, levelling her with a look.

America’s eyes widened briefly before she shrugged. “Yeah, whatever. You read that on some tumblr blog?” she called over her shoulder as she left.

Bucky stared after her. “What’s a tumblr?”

“You come over for sex and to steal my ice cream,” Sam complained, crawling into bed beside Bucky. He leaned over, accepting the bite of ice cream Bucky offered him.

They were disgustingly sweet and Bucky was pointedly ignoring that.

He was also ignoring the fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept at his own apartment. At this point, it was being kept as an arsenal and for appearances only. Not even Sam had seen it beyond helping him pick out the place a year ago. Kind of seemed like a waste of money.

“So, it’s okay when the kids steal your food, but not me?” he asked, pouting playfully.

Sam rolled his eyes, resting his head on Bucky’s shoulder. “They don’t steal my ice cream.”

They sat in silence for a while, but for once, Bucky didn’t feel that internal panic. Usually, when Sam slipped into silence around him, Bucky worried he’d overstayed his welcome. After all, this thing started as something quick and easy, mindless, meaningless sex to kill the time and remind themselves that they weren’t dead. So, there was really no reason for Bucky to be here if they weren’t having sex.

Sam’s breathing evened out, his body relaxed against Bucky’s. Tensing, Bucky quietly asked, “You seem tired. You want me to go?”

A beat, in which Bucky felt a rush of disappointment he hadn’t been expecting. Then Sam shook his head, nosing into Bucky’s throat. Relief flooded, warmly washing over him as he settled further in bed, taking more of Sam’s weight. It made it more difficult to eat his stolen ice cream, but he managed.

It was worth it just to be there.

* * *

One day, Bucky came back exhausted after a day of meetings at Avengers HQ.

He wanted a nap and he wanted Sam with him for that nap. Instead, he found David Alleyne sitting at the bar eating chocolates. Bucky closed the door behind him and slipped out of his boots.

“You’re not Sam,” he said with a frown.

“He’s on the phone.”

Bucky shrugged, digging through the fridge. He grabbed a soda, leaning back against the counter as David studied his hands. Unlike the others, he was content to sit in silence. Normally, Bucky didn’t mind it. Today, he found himself asking, “Okay, what is it?”

“Huh?”

“Out with it,” he said, gesturing for David to go on. “You guys only come over when you need something.”

“Well, no. Sometimes Cassie and I come over to bring food.”

Bucky blinked at him. “What?”

“Well, we like cooking and Sam never has time to go grocery shopping, so.” He shrugged, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Seemed like the thing to do and we can’t eat all of it ourselves.”

“You make Sam food.”

“Sometimes. Is that weird?” David asked.

Bucky thought it over for a moment, taking a long sip of his soda. “I guess not.” Honestly, he felt strange for not ever noticing. He supposed he was here a lot but they didn’t eat meals together here all that often.

“Anyway, I don’t need anything,” David added quietly, wringing his hands. “I’m an adult.”

“Barely.”

“I’m still an adult,” he said. A beat. “Except, how do you know you’re straight?”

Christ. “Am I the best person for this?”

“Well, aren’t you?” he asked, his eyes widening. At Bucky’s face, he explained, “America, Billy and Teddy are gay. I… well, we’re too afraid to ask but, we’re pretty sure Sam is gay. Cassie’s straight. All of them are very, very firmly in one camp, so to speak.”

Bucky had always made a point of specifically not talking about this sort of thing. When he’d been coming up, it had been dangerous to even thinking about being with another man. Even now, it wasn’t safe in certain spaces. He’d learned very early on to keep whatever thoughts he’d had to himself.

Except now, David was looking at him with worried big brown eyes. And Bucky remembered what it felt like to feel alone and scared of what it meant that he was attracted to dames and just as attracted to men. Now, it seemed virtually irrelevant. He was pretty gone over Sam and he didn’t see that changing any time soon.”

“You just know,” he said, leaning across the counter. “I’m not an expert, if that’s even something you can be.”

David laughed, averting his gaze. “Yeah, I know.”

“Why are you asking?”

David shrugged, chewing on a nail. “When things got crazy with my mutation, I picked up a lot more than talents and skills from other people. I started looking at people differently.” He sat back, eyes wide as he added, “I’m not like sex crazy or anything but, I find myself noticing all different kinds of people. Not just women. A lot of people just think I’m confused.”

“Well, they’re idiots,” Bucky said firmly. David blinked at him silently. “You know yourself better than anybody else is ever going to.”

“What if I don’t know myself? I don’t feel like I do,” he muttered.

“Look, there are so many more important things to do with your time than to listen to a bunch of other people telling you what you are. You’re a smart kid. Probably the smartest person I’ve ever met. But this isn’t about science or math or whatever; it’s about what you feel in your gut.”

David offered a smile, sliding off of the barstool. “Thanks, man. That was actually really helpful.”

He left with a wave and a promise to consider letting Bucky help the next time Cassie and he decided to make food for Sam. Bucky had just found Sam’s stash of popcorn when he emerged from his bedroom.

“Who was that on the phone? Your boyfriend?” he groused, shoving popcorn in his mouth.

Sam rolled his eyes, kissing his cheek as he moved towards the fridge. “There’s no one else in my life. I know you’re not good at sharing.”

He pulled out a bottle of water and took a long sip. Bucky eyed the long line of his throat, heat churning in his belly. He crowded in behind Sam, his hands on the counter as he pressed a kiss to his neck. His hand slid beneath the hem of Sam’s shirt, earning a quiet laugh.

“Someone missed me,” Sam murmured.

“You have no idea.”

* * *

Teddy was moping.

Well, sulking was the more accurate word. Bucky sat down beside Sam on the couch as he tried to comfort the kid.

It was an issue Bucky couldn’t understand. When he’d been a kid, there had been no way he’d ever be able to afford college in the first place. Besides, he’d hated school and the draft was coming down. The likelihood he’d see the inside of a classroom was nil.

But the kid seemed seriously broken up about going to college alone.

“You want some hot chocolate?” Sam asked, rubbing his back. He didn’t get an answer, but he got up anyway.

Leaving Bucky with the kid.

Bucky watched him go, a little resentful. Teddy wiped at his face, laughing as he said, “You hate this.” Bucky eyed him, cocking his head to the side. “I get it, we keep stealing all of Sam’s time.”

Bucky picked at a loose thread on his pants. “This place has been kinda crowded lately.”

“It’s just because we can’t talk about this stuff with our parents. The superhero stuff, anyway.” He wiped at his face again. “I know I’m being selfish. I should be happy for Billy, but it just feels like he’s leaving me. Like he got an excuse.”

One thing Bucky had learned over the past few months: the quicker he helped the kids, the sooner he’d have Sam all to himself again.

“That kid loves you.” Teddy frowned at him. “It’s obvious. Even if you only got into clown college, I’m pretty sure he’d put on a brave face and go with you. Maybe you don’t get into the same school, it doesn’t mean you’ll never see each other again.”

“You don’t get it. We see each other every day now.” He stared down at his hands, wringing them. “I don’t want to lose that.”

And yeah, Bucky couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if he couldn’t see Sam every day. “It’s not set in stone, is it?” Teddy looked to him. “You haven’t got all of your letters back.”

“The odds of me getting into NYU are like zero to one.”

“But it’s possible?” Teddy shrugged, averting his gaze. “Don’t count yourself out yet.”

Judging by the look on the kid’s face, the words weren’t exactly comforting. And maybe they didn’t need to be. Clearly, he hadn’t come here to talk optimism when he felt like shit. Bucky studied him for a moment before sighing. He leaned back into the couch, grabbed the remote, switched over to something stupid, and tossed a blanket over the kid.

“What are you doing?”

“You want to mope and feel like a selfish dick for a bit, I’m not going to stop you.” Teddy’s eyes widened. “I’m kind of an expert at that sort of thing. I’m not gonna judge.”

It took a minute but Teddy finally accepted the blanket with a grateful smile. “Thanks, Mr. Barnes.”

“It’s Bucky, kid,” he muttered.

* * *

Occasionally, Sam and Bucky worked with the kids.

Typically, they stayed out of their business and only intervened when absolutely necessary. On this day, Sam and Bucky had nearly passed out in bed when they got a frantic call from Tommy.

They stood in the bedroom, Bucky sighed, his face pressed to Sam’s shoulder as Sam put the phone on speaker.

“Speak slowly,” Bucky barked.

“I’m-trying! We-saw-this-bright-light-and-we-thought-it-would-only-take-a-second-to-check-out-because-like-it-was-just-this-one-guy-but-that-guy-had-friends-and-they-had- _guns_ -but-not-like-regular-guns-and—”

“Kid, slow down!” Bucky shouted as Sam looked to him worriedly.

“They’re smuggling alien guns and there’s too many of them,” he said in a rush. “The others are inside and I managed to get out before—”

There was a loud explosion, a ringing noise and the line went dead. Cursing, Bucky zipped up his vest, guiding Sam as they rushed for the door.

Sam was all focus. Always the professional.

Even so, Bucky could feel the tension in his body as they flew to Tommy’s last known location. Chances were, the kids would’ve freaked if they knew Sam had trackers on them. It was either that or shut this down for good.

When they arrived, everything was on fire.

The heat was near unbearable. Flames wicked through the shattered windows of the warehouse and it was impossible to see inside. Miraculously, fire rescue hadn’t yet arrived. When they couldn’t find the kids at first sight, Sam started to panic. Not even Tommy’s bright, blond hair was spotted outside. Which meant the kids were still inside.

“Sam,” Bucky tried, moving forward and touching his face when Sam kept peering inside. His eyes were wide and worried. “They’re going to be fine.”

“There’s so much smoke inside,” he rasped, his mouth going dry. “Why aren’t they outside?”

Bucky tried for a smile. “They’re smart kids.” Sam squeezed his eyes shut and Bucky traced his thumb over his cheek. “They are. They’re fine. Now, let’s go. You go high, see if you can spot anything from above. I’ll see what I can find down here.”

Sam nodded, rising up. He’d nearly disappeared when Bucky said, “Hey, Sam?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful, okay?”

A pause. Sam’s voice was warm, “I will. You, too.”

It took a few strong kicks for Bucky to get the door open. It had been wedged shut. As he shoved the door aside, he found a mess of splintered wood. The fire had been caused by some sort of explosion, debris littering the floor. There was a pile of melted metal nearby. Whatever it had been was no longer usable. Bucky found a line of stairs towards the back, untouched by the fire. Racing towards it, he nearly climbed them when he caught a glimpse of long dark hair.

He moved quietly around the staircase and found a small alcove. There he found Kate Bishop in jeans and a sweatshirt, curled over someone on the floor. A lead weight sunk in Bucky’s chest as he moved closer, his breath catching.

“Time to go, princess,” a voice rasped. America.

Alive, but she sounded badly injured. Kate’s hands spread out over her, her voice tight and panicked. “We have to go.”

“You’re nearly out of arrows and these guys aren't playing around.” A pained hiss escaped as she attempted to sit up. “Go, _please_. I’ll be fine.”

“America,” Kate’s voice broke. “Come on. I can carry you.”

“Now’s not the time for jokes,” America said as Bucky neared. Upon seeing Bucky, she tried for a smile. “She just can’t wait to get her hands on me.”

Bucky watched Kate shiver, her voice small. “Not funny.” She looked to Bucky, her face pale. “Can you talk some sense into her?”

“Have I ever been good at that?” he asked, earning a weak smile from America.

Her hands were covered by Kate’s, holding pressure over some sort of wound on her stomach. There was definitely blood, but he couldn’t tell if the wound was deep or what size it was. Not without moving their hands and that was entirely too risky. Considering Bucky didn’t know what type of weapon they were dealing with here, their best bet was to hold pressure and get help.

“Give me a sec,” he said, pressing his finger to his comm to give Sam an update.

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Kate muttered.

“I’m injured and still getting lectured,” America mused.

“You don’t always have to protect me.”

America’s eyes gleamed, her voice strong. “Yeah, I do.”

Eyes brimming with tears, Kate shifted on her knees, focusing on her hands. Bucky returned to them, respectfully ignoring the tears rolling down her face. “Sam’s on his way. It looks like the rest of the guys fled after they shot you, the cowards. We called for evac. They should be here in a few minutes.”

Kate looked to him, nodding once. Her lashes clumped together as she focused on her hands, lost in thought. She was shaking, her face tense as her breath quickened. Worried, Bucky moved in closer.

“I can take over,” he offered. She shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Kate,” he said gently, “let me do it.”

Her lashes fluttered, breathing labored as she stared at her hands. Her gloves were covered in blood, her bare fingers stained red. She gazed down at them unseeingly, tears streaming down her face as she shook her head again. Her eyes clenched shut, hands trembling. Bucky carefully moved her aside, pressing his hands over America’s.

Teddy arrived, taking in the scene quickly. Kate fell back against the wall where he helped her to her feet. Billy, Sam, Cassie and David arrived. All a little frazzled, but safe and alive. Sam kneeled down beside Bucky as helicopters cut through the air. 

America stayed overnight for observation.

Whatever she’d been hit with had been serious. If she hadn’t moved Kate out of the way, it would’ve shot clean through Kate’s stomach. America had saved a lot of people keeping those things off the street.

When Kate heard America would be okay, she didn’t react. Simply leaned back against the wall silently, lost in thought. David offered to take her home and Cassie offered to stay behind if she decided to stay with America. Kate turned them both down.

Later, she fell asleep, her head near America’s hip, her hand in America’s. Sam decided to stay which meant Bucky was staying, too.

No point going home if he was just going to sleep alone.

* * *

The team laid low for a bit.

It went without saying that they were taking it easy for America’s sake. Bucky was still on call for the Avengers, so he spent a few days at HQ. Afterwards, he went straight home to his apartment where his landlord seemed shocked to see him. He crashed out on his bed and, when he woke, felt as though he hadn’t slept at all.

When Hope took over watch duty, Bucky swallowed his pride and headed over to Sam’s. Maybe he’d never get a decent night’s sleep without Sam. Maybe Sam had already known that and very kindly didn’t mention it. Maybe none of it really mattered because what was the point in trying to “save face” at all?

It rained on his walk over to Sam’s. He hadn’t thought to grab an umbrella. Sam was usually the one who remembered things like that. When he reached Sam’s building, he found someone bundled up on the steps. As he grew closer, he realized it was Kate.

Ducking down, he reached out for her. “Hey, kid. What are you doing here?” He pulled off his jacket, draping it over her shoulders. “It’s freezing out here.”

Shivering, she looked to him, her eyes bright. “Sam’s not here, is he?”

“He’s got meetings.” He stood up, pulling her with him inside. She didn’t ask why he had a key.

Come to think it, Bucky hadn’t asked why Sam gave him the key.

He closed the door behind them, sliding out of his boots as he moved through to turn the air up. He started some coffee, grabbing mugs and spoons as if he lived here. Kate followed sullenly, watching as she slid onto a barstool. Bucky studied her for a long moment but, when she remained silently, he finally spoke.

“If you’re going to drip all over the counter, you’re going to talk.”

She huffed out a laugh, brushing her hair back. “I was looking for Sam.”

“You said that. He won’t be back for a few hours. I’m all you got, kid.”

“I’m not a kid,” she snapped, her eyes hard. Bucky had seen that haunted look before, on his own face. It really sucked to have to see it on hers. “Were you always such an ass?”

It was unexpected. “What?”

“That whole cool thing you do,” she muttered. “Nothing ever touches you and no one ever hurts your feelings.”

“I have feelings,” he bit out with minimal difficulty.

Kate stared at her hands, picking at her chipped nail polish. The light purple explained what had been going on with Sam’s nails the last time Bucky saw him. “I didn’t care that America stopped flirting with me. That’s fine, you know, whatever. I’m not – it’s whatever,” she finished, running a nervous hand through her hair. “You know, it’s not like nobody ever asks me out.”

“Good for you?”

She offered a weak smile. “I didn’t care. I really didn’t, but like… we had our thing, you know? She’d call me princess and I’d get mad at her and we’d argue and it was just what we did. Then she just stopped.” She tugged at her hair, lost in thought. “It’s like we became friends and she got to know me and then she realized I’m not worth it.”

“What do you mean?”

“She used to make fun of me and step in to protect me all the time like I couldn’t’ do anything right. Then she started doing nice things like bringing me coffee and buying me these strawberry pastries she knew I loved from this little bakery downtown. Little things that I thought were _big_ things, but maybe they weren’t,” she looked to him in question. “She even stopped calling me princess and it made me feel awful, like she just forgot about me.”

Her breath quickening. “Then she almost died and she called me princess again and I realized that I don’t want to be on this team without her.” A tear rolled down her cheek. Her voice softened, a smile on her face. “She’s not like anybody I’ve ever met. She’s this magical person and she’s so strong and outspoken and she never ever apologizes for being who she is. She’s funny and she’s smart and she puts her faith in people. She annoys the hell out of me and she does it on purpose but, she makes me feel safe. Nobody ever made me feel like that before.”

It was a lot. All these teenage emotions being thrown all over him and Bucky wasn’t sure what to say or if he was supposed to say anything at all. She was staring at Bucky quietly and he remembered David in a similar spot.

Right.

Sighing, he covered his face. “Is this a gay intervention?”

Kate froze. Then her eyes crinkled in the corners as she burst out laughing. “What even is that?”

“I don’t know! It keeps happening to me. I don’t know what to say.”

“I wanted Sam advice. He gives really good advice.” At Bucky’s face, she preened. “You wanna hear what he says about you?”

Bucky’s face burned and the answer was very much no. “Let’s talk about your gay crisis.”

“It’s not a crisis.” He poured her a cup of coffee. She wrapped her hands around the mug. “And I don’t think it’s gay. I’m still very much into Henry Cavill.”

Bucky sipped his coffee. “Who isn’t?”

She grinned, staring down into her coffee. “None of it matters anyway because she’s moved on.”

“What do you mean?”

Kate blew on her mug, eying him over the rim. “She asked someone else to prom. Some random girl. We’re going to spend the entire night with a stranger.”

“Things might be different if you just told her how you feel.”

Kate shook her head. “That’s why it’s stupid,” she spat. “She never says anything. She’ll flirt with me, do nice things for me but she never once just told me she liked me.”

Bucky shrugged, the words making his stomach twist in discomfort. “She, uh, seems a lot like me.” He scratched at his brow, staring down at his socks. “I didn’t try anything with Sam until I knew he’d be up for it. Well, I knew he thought I was hot, at least. I don’t know if he appreciated my sparkling personality.”

“Romantic,” she teased.

“I thought so.” He smiled. “My point is, I didn’t even think about doing anything until I knew it was safe to feel that way. I’m not like you. I can’t just tell people how I feel. In my experience, it hasn’t gone well.”

Kate considered this briefly before saying, “You realize you’re asking me to tell America how I feel.”

Bucky blinked, huffing out a laugh. “I do, but I stand by it. I give pretty good advice.”

“it’s about a C minus at best.”

“Still passing,” he mused, sipping his coffee.

Kate shook her head, laughing as the front door opened. She perked up as Sam appeared, tossing his coat on the couch. Upon seeing Bucky, he flashed a bright grin. A warmth bloomed in Bucky’s chest as he returned the smile helplessly. Five months of this and he still felt his heart skip a beat when Sam looked at him.

“Hey, what’s up?” he came into the kitchen, pulling Kate into a hug. Then he came around the counter and stole a sip of Bucky’s coffee.

Bucky shook his head fondly at the grimace. Sam never drank coffee without any sugar. “Kate’s staying for dinner,” Bucky said. 

Kate smiled.

That night, they lay in bed, Sam’s head on his chest.

Bucky stroked his back, Kate’s words rolling around in his head. “Sam… you know I like you, right?”

Sam’s breathing had evened out. For a second, Bucky thought he might’ve fallen asleep. Then he shifted a bit, murmuring, “You know, you’ve had your dick in my ass quite a few times now. I’m glad to know you like me.”

Bucky stifled a laugh, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “You know it’s more than that, right?”

“I know.” He pressed a kiss to Bucky’s chest. “But thanks for saying it.”

* * *

One night, Bucky came home – returned to Sam’s apartment to find several teenagers rushing around in a panic.

“You have to put it in the oven at 400, not 350,” Cassie insisted, literally shoving Teddy out of the way. “It’ll never cook in time.”

“Does Sam even like flowers?” David aside, nearly whacking Tommy in the head with the vase as he raced around speed cleaning/half spreading duster feathers around the apartment.

Kate and America were setting something on fire in the bedroom while Billy fiddled with the Bluetooth speakers. When Katy Perry started playing, Bucky had enough. He set his bag down in the hall with a thud and called out, “What the hell is going on here?”

The kids all froze, save Cassie who continued trying to push Teddy out of the kitchen entirely. Kate raced out of the bedroom, her face flushed and red. America followed shortly after, her lips a mix of her usual shade and a pink gloss. At Bucky’s raised brow, she wiped at her mouth, pointedly avoiding looking in Kate’s direction.

“We’re trying to do something nice for Sam,” Kate explained brightly. “He does so much for us that we thought it would be nice to give him a night off.”

“A night,” Bucky repeated slowly.

“It’s not much, but it’s a start,” Tommy said, standing up straighter.

Softening, Bucky rubbed at his brow. “Okay, okay, walk me through this.” He headed into the kitchen where something was bubbling in the oven. “What’s this?” he asked Cassie.

“Brownies,” David chimed in, leaning against the counter. “Cass and I made them. They need to be in the oven at 375 degrees.” Cassie nearly tackled Bucky in her haste to change the temperature.

“Okay,” he said, moving through to the living room. “Why are you blasting pop music at me?” he asked Billy.

“I was looking for something relaxing but it’s Kate’s iPod—”

“It is not!” she shouted.

Teddy blushed, trying to hide ineffectually behind David. “Here, take mine,” America said, sliding her phone out of her pocket. Kate looked to her fondly.

Finally, Bucky moved through to the bedroom. He was relieved to see Kate and America had been lighting candles until he realized they’d lit lines of them on the dresser and the nightstand. “Are we hosting a séance?”

America rolled her eyes. “They smell nice.”

Bucky crossed his arms. “You guys had no idea I was even stopping by. What was your plan if I went home tonight?” He’d have nightmares about Sam’s apartment burning down.

“Where’s that?” Kate asked innocently.

“I have a home.” The kids gathered in the doorway, staring at him quietly. “What?”

“I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve seen you without Sam,” David said.

“If I ever need to call you, I just call Sam,” Billy said.

“Dad said, if I can’t reach Uncle Sam, I should just call you,” Cassie chimed in.

“I’m pretty sure you own two pairs of boots and they’re both here, so,” Tommy cut in.

“You have a key,” America said slowly.

Kate nodded, rather smug as they stared him down.

Sighing, Bucky scanned the room once more. On its surface, this whole thing was presumptuous and annoying. Deeper down, it spelled out the most obvious thing of all: the kids really loved Sam and they wanted to do something nice for him. Which involved Bucky.

Because Sam loved Bucky.

Shaking his head, he hiked his thumb towards the door. “Alright, out.” Their eyes widened. “Out, come on. All of you.”

As he herded them through the door, Kate glared at him. “How come you get all the credit?”

“You really think Sam’s going to believe I knew where to buy candles?” He waved them out, leaning against the door jamb.

As he passed, David reminded him, “375 for fifteen minutes.”

“Got it,” he said, shooing them out. They stood in the hallway staring at him. Bucky smiled, “Seriously, thanks. He’s gonna love it. I’ll take it from here.”

By the time Sam came home, Bucky had taken the brownies out and made dinner. He’d blown the candles out because Sam’s curtains were making him nervous.

Sam appeared, dropping his bag on the floor in the hall and shuffling into the living room. “I’m exhausted.” He tugged his beanie off, dropping it on top of his bag. “Any way we can do something easy tonight?” He looked up to find Bucky grinning at him and he rolled his eyes. “For food.”

“No need. I made dinner. Sit down.” He pulled out a chair at the dining room table.

Sam sat down, a curious look on his face. “You made dinner?”

“I can cook, you know?” He set down a plate and poured Sam a glass of wine.

“Yeah, but you usually don’t.” He took the wine gratefully, studying the plate. “Looks good, man.”

Smiling, Bucky set down his own plate. Dinner was… different. It wasn’t that they never ate dinner together but, Bucky usually showed up later in the evening. They talked about things other than work or where the lube was. It was nice. Sam kept looking at him like he wasn’t sure what this whole thing was about.

When he rolled his neck for the twelfth time, wincing as he did, Bucky stood up. “Okay, that’s it.” Sam frowned at him as he headed into the bathroom.

Sam followed moments later to find the bathtub filling up with water, the scent of Japanese cherry blossoms filling the room. A few candles lining the bathroom, stolen from the bedroom. “What is this?”

“It’s called a bath,” Bucky said plainly.

“I know but,” he hesitated, chewing on his lip. “We were having a nice time.”

The words gave Bucky pause, a strange feeling settling in his stomach. He didn’t like the idea of Sam pretending everything was fine for him. “I’m not going anywhere.” He brushed his hair back, searching for something to say. “I’ll just, uh, clean up the kitchen and then I’ll be back. Okay?”

Nodding, Sam turned around, pulling his shirt overhead. He was in the water when Bucky returned. He quickly stripped down and slid in behind Sam, to his amusement.

“I can barely fit in here,” Sam mused, but he let Bucky pull him back against his chest. He grabbed a washcloth, dipping it in the water and running it across Sam’s chest. “You don’t have to,” Sam began.

“I know.” He ran the cloth over Sam’s shoulder, pressing a kiss to the nape of his neck.

“Y’know, someone left fifty candles in my bedroom.”

Huffing out a laugh, Bucky continued down Sam’s bicep. “That wasn’t me.”

“It was just a burglar with a membership discount for Bath and Body Works?”

“Kate and America.” He dipped the washcloth beneath the water again before running it down Sam’s other shoulder. “The kids really care about you.” He caught the corner of Sam’s smile. “We have that in common.”

Sam’s smile widened. “You’re going to tell me you like me again. I would’ve appreciated a handwritten note.”

Bucky smiled, wrapping his arm around Sam’s chest. He let out a slow breath, his heart beating fast in his chest. In some ways, it was a lot easier to say when Sam wasn’t looking directly at him. “I love you, Sam.” Sam tensed, his breath catching. Bucky licked his lips. “You don’t have to say it back,” he added clumsily. “I just wanted you to know.”

He made to pull his arm back when Sam caught his wrist gently, turning his head. “I love you, too.” Candlelight flickered golden and warm in his brown eyes, stealing Bucky’s breath away. He sounded sure.

Bucky touched his cheek, crushing their mouths together. Sam’s mouth opened in a gasp, welcoming Bucky’s tongue inside. The water rocked, the tub certainly not made for two large men and certainly not in this angle. They pulled apart, Bucky’s forehead pressed to Sam’s temple as he smiled.

Turning Sam back around, he pulled him back against his chest. He pressed a kiss to Sam’s neck and picked up the washcloth.


End file.
